A Death City Christmas Pageant
by soul-dwelling
Summary: Lord Death proposes a new option for Death City's yearly Christmas pageant: a charity auction featuring the hunkiest guys at the DWMA. Although Maka is initially excited to enter the embarrassed Soul into a holiday contest featuring talent competitions and costume contests, a schedule conflict compromises her Christmas Eve plans with him.
1. A Skull Topper and a Confession

The Christmas season in Death City had never bothered Maka Albarn, but it left Soul Eater perturbed. He had been struggling to finish reading a book-not for enjoyment, but for a make-up test he had to complete for Nygus's intermediate weapons' course-and the interruption was not entirely appreciated. As much as he enjoyed that his partner-meister-had returned so quickly to their apartment from errands, as she stood in his bedroom, he was really not interested in what she had to show off.

"A skull at the top of the Christmas tree?"

His meister, wearing a wide smile, nodded as she held up her new purchase.

Soul stared at her for a moment, then turned back to his book. "No."

"Soul!" Maka yelled. "It's tradition."

"Not my tradition."

"Oh? And what would you have us do, _not_ put a skull atop the tree?"

"Yes!"

Maka growled, then pinched the bridge of her nose. "Where is your Death City spirit?"

"Buried six feet under," he said, as he flipped to the next page. "I hope you kept the receipt for that monstrosity."

"It is adorable! And look!"

Soul did, as Maka ripped the top off the box.

"Maka!"

"Oh, like I was going to ever return it!" she said, as she found the plug at the end of the skull orb, which she then plugged into the outlet located in the lamp atop Soul's desk. The skull then lit up a cool blue, before dissolving into green, then yellow, then red, before returning to blue. As Maka stared, her smile widened. "I would have gotten the tree topper that plays 'Christmas With the Devil,' but I thought that was too on the nose. And if you don't like this ornament, I bet your musical tastes wouldn't like that song either."

Maka dulled the insult by sliding her hand along Soul's hair. The path sent a rush up his spine.

"W-what has gotten into you?!" Soul yelled.

"Nothing!" Maka said with a giggle, leaving the skull atop the desk. "It's just, you know, it's Christmas Time! And I want us to get into the holiday spirit!"

Soul sighed. "Put up whatever you want on the tree-I don't care."

"Oh, you will!" Maka chided, gently. "You'll really get a kick out of this year's surprise!"

"I'm sure I won't," Soul said with a growl, returning to his book.

Maka frowned. "Fine, Scrooge, keep up this sour disposition, but I'm not letting you disrupt my holiday cheer." She pat him on the shoulder with the empty box that the ornament had been in. "Or else you'll sour the entire holiday pageant at school!"

Soul's eyes lifted from his book. "Girls marching across stage in goofy outfits? Oh, be still, my heart."

Maka raised an eyebrow. The past two Christmases that she had spent with Soul, he had been so dour, but this year, since Thanksgiving, he verbalized his displeasure louder and louder. It would not bother her so much if he was not so out of character. The last two years, Soul at least approached his displeasure with the holiday season with some good-natured ribbing. In particular, he was usually calmer about the DWMA's yearly holiday pageant. True, as he said, it had turned into a glorified fashion show, broken up with a few readings from classic literature and a bit of music-never provided by Soul, unfortunately, no matter how often Maka pestered him to perform. But even Soul had more to say than just whine about how goofy the affair was. The yearly holiday pageant consisted of the girls at the DWMA dressing in holiday attire, in a glorified beauty competition to determine who best embraced the charm, fashion, grace, intelligence, and strength expected of an E.A.T. student-coupled with a dumb swimsuit competition and evening gown competition. Maka herself recognized how pathetic the affair was, in no small part because of who was in charge of the affair.

"If it makes you feel better," Maka said, "I heard from Kid that Papa is no longer running the contest."

That comment pricked up Soul's ears. "Oh?" He looked up from his book. "Who did Lord Death put in charge?"

"Well," Maka said, avoiding eye contact, "Kid…"

Soul stared at Maka for a moment. Then he burst out laughing. "Okay," he said, slapping his hand on the desk, "now _that_ sounds excellent! We have to check that out!"

Maka sighed with relief. "Good-because I volunteered us."

Soul sat back. "For?"

"For the contest?"

"Like, you will be on stage?" He looked away sharply from Maka. "In...those outfits?"

Maka let the silence hang. "Not exactly."

"Oh." Soul almost sounded disappointed. "You, um, won't be in the swimsuit?"

"No."

"The evening gown."

"No."

Soul dared to look. "What, exactly, will you be wearing?"

"Nothing."

Soul fell out of his chair.

"Not like that!"

"Then what-?!"

"You are going on stage."

Soul blinked. "I'm what?"

"I signed you up for the competition."

Soul climbed back into his chair. "In case you haven't noticed, Maka, I ain't exactly the guy to be in an evening gown?"

"I think you could pull it off."

"Wipe that smirk off your face," Soul growled. "What the hell do you mean I'm in the competition this year?!"

"Liz told me to sign you up!"

"Why?! I'm not going to compete with other girls!"

"You won't be!"

"Oh, I won't!"

"No!" Maka shouted, waving her hands in front of her. "You'll be competing against…"

Soul looked at her. He bobbed his forehead, encouraging her to finish her answer.

"Against other boys."

Soul's chest collapsed.

"It's a boys' beauty contest this year, Soul."

The weapon's face blanched.

"Merry Christmas?" Maka offered.

Then meister and weapon heard a piano begin to play, followed by a saxophone. The duo stared at the skull on his desk.

" 'Last Christmas Eve, I didn't feel so jolly...'"

"Huh," Maka began. "I guess the skull ornament does play music."


	2. The DWMA at Christmas, as Patty Plots

Before Maka dropped the bombshell onto Soul, that morning, she was just as ignorant of the change of plans when it came to the yearly winter pageant. That morning was so much more innocent, if only because Maka was so enamored by Death City around Christmas, and Soul had so much more on his mind. Each year, the city's tourism and local business association put so much work into making the community so welcoming to the outside world. Whereas the yearly Halloween Battle Festival was a bellicose affair that attracted spectators looking for a good fight between Academy students, and the typical set of goths and thrill seekers to enter the City of Death itself, the Christmas season was like a sugary-sweet family affair, one tempered, of course, with a set of skulls dotting every building. Yet as the outside world seemed to become darker and drearier for some people, having a place like Death City that embraced the idea of death rather than resist it was surprisingly comforting at winter, especially when that gothic scene blended rather well with snowy fields (in the middle of the dessert, at that), sleigh bells, and copious amounts of egg nog.

Maybe it was just the egg nog that dulled people's senses when they entered a city of humans transforming into weapons, witches seemingly attacking the city on a bi-yearly basis, and whatever the heck that loud white pointy-beak creature was.

For Maka Albarn, Christmas was an excellent time to reconnect with her friends and family after stressful weeks of tests, missions, and training. For Soul Eater, it was a time that the pressures of being around so much happiness seemed to bum him out-and make it all the more important for him to swallow that frustration when he saw how happy his meister was. And that was how that Monday morning had started, as the two were racing to get to the Academy on time.

In the time since the Kishin's revival, it was especially important for Death City to present a shining example to the rest of the world, and the winter season was one time when the community became a model for charity, friendliness, and good will.

"Move your butt already, Maka! I can't afford another tardy!"

"Then get your ass up earlier," Soul's meister retorted, dashing by him up the long stairway leading to the Death Weapon Meister Academy, its guard rails wrapped with garland.

"Hey, wait up!" the slower weapon called up to her.

"Make up your mind, Soul!" She had turned around and, even without seeing what was behind her, still kept pace with the stairs without tripping, and still increased the distance between her and her weapon. While the exhilaration of challenging herself physically invigorated her on this colder December morning, the entertainment gained from seeing her weapon struggle to keep up grew tiresome. Therefore, Maka eventually turned forward to greet the pleasant sight that awaited her every winter: the DWMA at Christmas.

"Exceptional," she whispered, as she jumped up the last steps and landed atop the quad's stonework. "Lord Death really went all out this year!"

The spikes jutting out from the Academy were striped like candy canes, mirror images of each other. Santa caps adorned the three skulls that formed the school's entrance, wreaths hanging around the other skulls along the tower's exteriors. Cut-out paper snowflakes were hung inside the windows, faux-icicles from the balconies, and Christmas lights around the towers. In the middle the quad stood an ice sculpture display, roped off from the public, featuring a replica of Lord Death in the center-holding up a peace sign to greet all students and visitors arriving for the last week of classes. Surrounding his sculpture were life-sized sculptures of the eight Death Scythes.

Still waiting for her weapon to arrive, Maka dashed to the sculptures, admiring the work accomplished. She whistled in appreciated. "Some of those NOT students are more talented than we give them credit," she said to herself, circling around the barrier to look at the art. She smiled seeing some of the new faces who appeared more often at the Academy since the Kishin's revival, such as Miss Marie, Ms. Yumi, and Justin. She chuckled at seeing Tezca and Pushka, whom she had not seen since before she enrolled at the DWMA when they would visit her mother.

But upon encountering one of the last sculptures, she frowned. She looked up and studied the sculpture of the Death Scythe for North America, her father, Spirit Albarn.

"His nostrils are still ugly even in ice," she muttered, marching away from his visage and back to the other sculptures. "At least Mr. Dinga and Mr. Galland came out well."

She continued examining the sculptures, until she heard footsteps behind her, and a lot of huffing and puffing, too.

"I-I'm...I'm here," Soul choked out. "Can...can we get to class now?"

Maka lowered her eyes. "Some of us wrapped up our classes already," she said. "I have first period off."

Soul exhaled. He glared at her. "No wonder you weren't in a rush. But I'm still in class, so I need to go!"

"I don't need to hold your hand to get there-go ahead!" she said with a smirk.

He met her smirk with his own. "As you wish, my meister," he said, with a mock bow. "But...um...Could I ask a favor?"

She raised an eyebrow.

"I really don't want to fall on my face getting to class. Could you, you know, walk with me?"

"Soul! Are you really feeling that out of shape?" she asked, pulling him up to put his arm around her neck, helping him along the way.

"No! I just, you know, like the insurance. If I bomb this final in Nygus's class, I'm screwed next semester! I can't take another remedial course."

"No," she corrected, "_we_ can't take another remedial course. If you get stuck, then I'm stuck swinging your ass around on extra missions-and for no pay, either."

"Money, money, money," he muttered.

"It's true! We get stuck with more classes-"

"_I_ get stuck with more classes," he corrected her.

"That is all the less time we have to supplement our stipend." She grunted, as she and Soul went up the steps from the quad into the hallway. Soul managed to free one of his hands from her support to shield his eyes, moving from the bright winter sun into the dimmer candlelit entryway. "With us having to support someone else this year, we need all the money we can get."

He lifted his head. "Someone else?"

"Crona, of course!"

"Right, right," Soul said, waving his hand. "Sorry. Just been a lot on my mind-forgot we adopted someone."

"Soul!"

"I'm kidding!" he said with a chuckle. His smile grew friendly. "Pretty cool of you to look out for...um..."

"Zer. Go with 'zer.'"

"Yeah, sorry. Just getting used to the new word." He increased his weight on her shoulder, as she helped him up another flight of stairs towards his first class, the intermediate weapons course he was flunking with Mira Nygus. "Is that where you're going during first period? To find Crona in...zer, dungeon?"

"Yep!" Maka said, jubilent. "I have so many fun activities for us to prep for the Christmas dinner!"

Soul raised an eyebrow. "What, you're going to teach zer cooking? With a hot plate or something?"

"I was thinking Crona could help with decorations!"

Soul's lips pursed. "If it is anything like her poetry..."

"No," Maka stopped him, her smile dissolving into discomfort. "I...I learned my lesson: from now on, Crona is not getting another pen until ze reads some happier literature. Instead, I'll just give zer scissors." She looked to her weapon, more serious. "Since...that witch did not let Crona do arts and crafts, we'll start with construction paper and safety scissors. Maybe move onto paste."

"Don't baby zer."

"I won't!" Maka protested.

"Please, you're sounding like zer mom!" he chided.

"Stop that," she replied with a knowing smile.

"Mama Maka: has a nice ring to it!"

"Quiet, you!" she said, pushing his arm off her shoulder before poking him in the ribs. "Unless you want a tickle attack!"

"Oh, anything but that!" Soul cried in mock horror.

But she had already initiated, poking at him as he struggled to take her wrists in his hands.

"Oy! You two perverts!"

The duo stopped cold as a deafening voice echoed throughout the hallways.

"Stop groping each other in the hallways!" a teenage girl called through a megaphone. "Or it'll be detention for the lot of you!"

Maka frowned, recognizing the voice. "Who gave you a megaphone, Patty?"

The device lowered, revealing the smiling face of Death the Kid's younger weapon. "Big Sis did! Got to whip up these lollygaggers for the X-Mas spirit!" She dashed over to her friends, her arm extended out to knock into Soul's windpipe and clutch him for a noogie. As the weapon squirmed under her grasp, Patty continued to converse with the shocked Maka: "And since your papa ain't here this week, we got no spirit, and I'm not about to how nothing X-rated going on at this mass event-you got that, lovers?"

Maka's eyes narrowed at Patty. "Ha ha ha," she laughed, derisively. "Would you quit with that talk?"

"Yeah!" Soul grunted, finally tugging himself out of Patty's grasp-his hair scrunched up into an awkward style that, as Maka saw it, caused her to cover her mouth for fear of exploding in laughter. "You think me and Short-Stack here have anything going on?"

Patty frowned at the breast joke before glancing up at Soul's hair. She smirked. "Yeah, you're probably right about that, Silly Buns: Maka here wouldn't date someone with hair like that."

Soul glanced up to the ceiling and, not noticing his bangs, frowned, frantically teasing his hair back down. That's when the bell decided to ring: "Ding-dong! Dong-dead!"

"Great! Class is starting!" He glared at Patty. "I'll fix you later!" He limped along down the hall, tossing his backpack over his shoulder. But as he passed by his meister, he stopped moving, touching her on the shoulder. "You okay getting down to the dungeon?"

Maka smirked. "I can move my legs and arms now with no problems, unlike some tired weapon. The question is whether you need me to-"

"I can walk myself," he insisted. "But I don't need another-"

"Crazy spider lady putting you out of commission," Maka said simultaneously with Soul.

"Yeah, I've heard it before. I'll be fine! Get moving or you'll miss class!"

He tensed. "Right! Later!" He limped quickly down the hallway. "Be safe!" he called back.

Maka hesitantly waved. "Yeah, no problem," she said, her voice not carrying as she was studying the floor. Be safe? When wasn't she?

Then images crossed Maka's mind: her entrance into where Crona had been waiting for them, the battle on London Bridge, and clutching the Kishin in a failed attempt to slow him down.

She looked up, but her partner had already circled around the corner to his classroom.

She smiled. She was being safe: she already had Soul watching her back.

"Maybe Shark Boy has a point."

Maka then felt arms wrap loosely over her shoulders, as Patty looked around the meister's head. "You've had more hospital visits than Kid has matching suits."

"Well, maybe if it wasn't Soul..." Maka didn't finish the sentence: no point bringing up yet again her weapon's injury at the hands of the very same person she was now befriending.

That thought awoke Maka's memory.

"Crona! I have to get to the dungeon to-"

"Let your buddy out?"

Maka turned to around and was face to face with the very same person:

"Crona!" Maka called, happily wrapping her arms around her friend-and tugging forward Patty, whose arms were still around Maka, causing the trio to fall to the floor. The sight left the boy who had called out a moment ago to do something he did not usually: be speechless.

"Um?" Black Star asked, his finger pointed in the air as he struggled to form words. "You all need help getting off the floor?"

Maka was laughing too hard to prop herself up. "I'm fine, really," she said. "I'm sorry, Crona, Patty! Crona, are you okay?"

The meister, recently defected from the now executed witch Medusa and seeking asylum at the DWMA, was curled in the fetal position, in part to avoid injury to zerself, in part to avoid touching, or being touching, by anyone else during the fall. "No-Yes? Um, whichever answer is better."

Maka's eyes softened as her laugh dissipated. She looked with concern to Patty, who shrugged in confusion but nevertheless took a hand with Maka to help Crona back up.

"Black Star," Maka asked, confused, "what's going on?"

Black Star glanced at Patty, then back at Maka. Then he resumed his air of confidence. "Nothing at all! I just figured you wanted an early start with your other BFF here!" he called, wrapping an arm around Crona and dragging the discomforted meister over.

Maka frowned. "First, get your hands off Crona."

"Yes, please," Crona whispered, meekly.

"Oh. Sorry, dude!" Black Star apologized, taking a step back.

"Second, don't turn Soul and Crona into some fight for top billing as my..." She stopped. "What does 'BFF' mean?"

"Best Friend Forever," the other three said to Maka.

This instance led the meister to study Crona for a moment, causing the nervous new student to shake a bit. Maka shook her own head-she'd deal with that question later-and returned to Black Star. "Soul and Crona have no need to compete for my spot as a best friend-"

"Soul?" Black Star asked. Then he chuckled. "Oh, hell no! I meant me! I'm obviously your best buddy!"

Maka narrowed her eyes. "You have got to be..." She sighed, pressing two fingers to her forehead to curb the upcoming headache. "Black Star, I...I don't even...Why are you trying to put yourself in competition with Soul?"

Black Star held up his hands. "Whoa, I wasn't trying to compete! I'm just saying that Soul is-"

He stopped talking, at least coherently, as Patty slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle his explanation. "Any-who," Patty began, as the irate ninja started to wave his arms around, "as fun as this talk is, we got something to take care of for first period, hence why _I_ asked B.S. over here to grab Crona over there!"

Crona avoided eye contact with Maka. The curious meister looked at all three parties. "And that would be?"

She felt a hard slap on her shoulder.

"All in good time, this will be explained, too!" Patty shouted, having somehow leapt from where she had muzzled Black Star to standing next to Maka, causing the latter to leap in surprise.

"And Black Star!" Patty called. "Keep your mouth shut, or I'll blast your balls off!"

Black Star blinked, then smiled widely. "Can do!" he called, saluting. "I got to...well, prepare!" He spun around, waving back. "Catch ya later for the dress rehearsal!"

Maka grimaced, first at Patty's threat, then at Black Star's typical reaction. "What is it about this Academy that attracts such loonies?" she said to no one in particular.

"Does it though?"

The question brought Maka's attention back to her friend.

"People here seem...a lot friendlier, than I thought they would be," Crona said, hesitantly.

Maka sighed and smiled. "You have a point there." She took Crona's hands. "And wait until you see all the other fun stuff we have in store for this Christmas!"

Crona's hands started to redden, ze was blushing so hard. "W-w-w-what kind of stuff?"

"We build snowmen!"

Crona's eyes widened. "You can conjure men out of snow!"

"No, Crona, it's-it's just a phrase."

"No, Maka, you're right: that sounds really weird! You're right, this place is full of loonies!"

"Yep!" Patty shouted, wrapping arms around both of her friends' shoulders. "And wait 'til y'all see what Big Sis has planned for the pageant!" She gave a devious grin to Maka. "And I think you'll get a kick out of it especially."

Maka's eyes widened. "I am not participating in that pageant! You will not get me into one of those skin-revealing outfits in front of the Academy!"

Patty glanced Maka from toe to head. "How about in no outfit?"

"Patty!"

"You see yourself in the shower?"

"Patty!"

"You are pretty smoking, girl."

Crona was blushing harder. "I'm so confused: could someone explain what is going on?"

Maka sighed. "Patty is being pervy and wants to get as many girls into beauty pageant attire for the Academy's winter festival."

"Au contraire, mon friar!"

"Not even close, Patty," Maka corrected her speech.

Patty frowned. "Just-just come on!" She tugged on both friends' hands. "We got us a date with destiny, and she's paying for the meal!"

Unable to extricate themselves, Maka and Crona struggled to keep up with Patty's pace, their friend dragging them through the hallway and back down the stairs until they stood before one of the empty clasroom.

"Get in!" Patty cried, shoving Maka and Crona through the doors into the dark room, causing the former to stumble and the latter to outright fall onto zer face.

Maka knelt down to help her friend back up.

"What the hell is this all about?!" she called into the darkness.

A spotlight in the room shone from the ceiling down to the lecture room's front desk. But rather than a teacher seated, there was one of her classmates, her boots kicked up onto the table as she leaned back in the chair, a smile of confidence spread across her face.

"What's going on," Liz Thompson began, "is the most excellent plan for a Christmas pageant ever."


End file.
